As a director, it is really my vision the class will be following, and Shakespeare's text will become incidental. The director is, after all, the AUTEUR, and the first role of an auteur is to make sure no one forgets who the fucking auteur is.
Therefore, I will start treating people much worse than I usually do and make friends fetch me coffee. I will grow an imposing beard. I will sit on a cloth folding chair with my name stencilled on the back. I will abuse my actors and belittle them with constant shouting and cries of 'No, no, all wrong!' I will wear a beret and wraparound sunglasses when inappropriate, which is always. I will mix metaphors and add sexual innuendo to topics which don't demand it. And let's just say, the casting couch will add a few hundred k to its odometer.
Though there is no camera, I will buy a viewfinder and haul it out whenever someone is watching. I will take an inordinate amount of interest in how bright it is and consult with my light-meter.
When asked, I will downplay the contributions of the actors and Shakespeare himself and preface every conversation with, 'Well, this is what Marty Scorsese told me one time' or 'Here's a little advice I picked up from Frankie Coppola.'
Speaking of Coppola, I will insist that you haven't seen Apocalypse Now until you've seen the Five-Hour Redux Edition, and that the Director's Cut of Gladiator: A Ridley Scott Film really opens up new dimensions. When backed into a corner, I will refer to Jean-Luc Godard films which don't exist, using these fictional films to prove I know more about the art form than anyone else.
I will develop preconceived notions about the characters and rewrite the script on-set, and demand that the actors relearn their lines minutes before performance. I will also demand to shoot only in seventy millimeter, as only peach-fuzzed film students shoot in thirty five mil.
I will work a nude scene into Julius Caesar and tell the actress it's essential to the plot.
I will also set Shakespeare in a different time period, because Shakespeare is SO period, and a director's vision must take precedence over some dead Brit who wrote some gibberish on a fucking scroll five thousand years ago. Julius Caesar will be set in rural Georgia, with Caesar a black lesbian and Brutus a Southern belle. Falstaff will be a Yukon prospector, and Henry V will be a cyborg capable of underwater combat.
Of course, the real test of a director--sorry, AUTEUR--'s vision, is to add in unecessary technical flourishes that detract from the story. So, first of all, the script will be chopped up and taken out of chronological order, with Brutus standing over a dead Caesar and then a series of random flashbacks culminating in Brutus almost shooting Tim Roth. One character will have a reverb effect on her voice so she sounds like Zuul. Anyone who dies, instead of falling dead, will walk up a 'Stairway to Heaven' at the back of the stage with an EXIT sign over top so everyone knows he or she is dead. Instead of act breaks, to indicate a change of scene I will have a character slam back a shot of rum, flash-cut-to a plane taking off, and flash-cut again to a briefcase snapping shut.
After the performance we will show the entire thing again only I and the main actors will talk over the action and relate amusing anecdotes. Another 'Making Of' play will be put on enacting just how we put on the first play, and will include interviews with behind-the-scenes personnel. Other bonus features will include: stereo sound, scene selections, interactive menus and original theatrical trailers.
Finally, I really want my direction to make the audience aware of the direction. I want to call attention to the fact that we are watching a play, which is a bourgeoise notion to begin with. Therefore I will hire someone to play myself and then I'll direct his direction, so that onstage you will see a play being directed in front of other actors playing crew members. Post-modernism is all about self-awareness. If Shakespeare were alive he'd totally go for that deconstruction stuff.
But the importantest thing is the beard. An AUTEUR cannot afford to have smooth cheeks: they are a sign of weakness and possibly creative impotence. Smooth cheeks are the reason why Leni Riefenstahl's films aren't relevant today and George Lucas's are. If you disagree, I suggest you consult Godard's magnum opus Le Grande Merde.
Oh, and of course, the play will be renamed Caesar: A Sam Wiebe Joint.